


Love, Tumbleweeds, and Bullets

by TheDuchessUnseen



Series: Gibraltar [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, F/F, Includes allusions to racism, Mysterious Past, Period Typical Attitudes, nothing severe, swerfs fuck off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29627820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuchessUnseen/pseuds/TheDuchessUnseen
Summary: All Madame O'Deorain wants is to protect her girls, but when the cards are on the table, how far is she willing to go?
Relationships: Yuna "D.Mon" Lee/Brigitte Lindholm/Hana "D.Va" Song
Series: Gibraltar [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1468591
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Love, Tumbleweeds, and Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this finally happened, sorry for the wait.

Nine months ago

“Woman!” a deep voice rang out through lushly carpeted halls as a meaty fist hammered on the glass-paneled door.

Hana Song and Yuna Lee peered around the corner of the parlor nervously. Around them the girls who had no johns pulled them back from the corner.

“Madame will take care of it.” one of the others hissed into Hana’s ear. 

“I see at least five of them.” Yuna quaked, “Fuck, what are we gonna do?”

“You will stay back and get behind me.” a clear voice commanded.

The girls turned to see Madame Moira O’Deorain standing behind them, dressed in her usual black pinstripe slacks and deep purple shirt. The top button was undone, and she had foregone a tie. It was for many of the girls the first time they had seen her in such disarray.

The girls quickly obeyed, eyeing the gun that Moira had one hand casually resting on.

The fist pounded on the door again. “Woman! Open up!”

Moira rolled her eyes and strode to the door. “Just who, in the name of goddamn FUCK do you think you are!” she shouted.

“I- I represent Mister Carver, he owns this town woman!”

Hana could practically hear Moira’s sneer. “You will address me as Madame, are we clear?” she clipped out harshly.

The man laughed. “Is that so Madame?” he mocked. “Well, you moved in her, and you owe us money for our bosses… generosity.”

“Why should I pay money to a man who won’t do me the courtesy of meeting me face to face?”

The man on the other side of the door stammered. “I’ve got twenty men out here all pointing their guns at you!” he finally yelled.

Moira sighed and drew her pistol, holding it at waist level. “And I have one gun pointing at your one little man and his two tiny friends. Now, do you want to see who can shoot first? Or do you want to have your employer meet with me at sociable hours?”

Moira could hear the man gasping like a fish. “I- I- I… we’ll be back!” he roared. Moira stood at the door; gun still drawn.

“Hana. go see how many are left.” she commanded. The girl nodded and scampered off. “The rest of you girls get some sleep. I’ll have interviews with potential bouncers tomorrow before my meeting with this Mister Carver.”

The girls slowly left all except for Yuna. “Were you really gonna shoot him?” she asked.

Moira turned and Yuna was shocked to see the depth of determination and grit in her expression as she put her hand on Yuna’s shoulder.

“I will do anything and everything it takes to protect you girls from harm.”

Yuna gazed into the older woman’s eyes and saw years of pain and grief, conviction and an understanding of a shared past. “I know.”

Moira nodded sadly. “Now get to bed and wait for Hana to join you.”

Yuna’s jaw dropped, “How- how did you?”

Moira smiled. “Please dear give me some credit. You two look at each other like you hung the stars.” 

Yuna swallowed nervously. “So, you’re not mad?”

Moira shook her head. “Darling this life is cruel to women, women like us in particular; and even crueler to you. We must take our happiness where we can find it.”

Yuna nodded and embraced the older woman. Moira gave her a surprised squeeze before nodding upstairs. Yuna went back to her room as Moira waited for Hana as Moira moved a chair from the parlor into the hallway, facing the door. 

“There’s only one on that bench in front of the saloon.” Hana told her, “I saw the others all get on their horses. Also there were only five of them.”

Moira nodded. “Well done Hana, go on upstairs.”

Once Hana had gone, Moira went into her office and pulled out the rifle she kept behind her desk. Sitting back down in the hallway, she laid the rifle in her lap and began her watch.

###

Hana crawled into Yuna’s bed, kissing her softly before wrapping her arms around her. “There’s only one left, Madame’s in the hallway with a rifle.”

Yuna nodded. “She knows about us.”

Hana looked up at her. “What?” she exclaimed.

“She said it was okay. That we had to take our happiness where we could find it.”

Hana smiled as she nestled into the crook of her girlfriends’ neck. Inhaling she caught the whiff of the scent of peppermint and tea leaves. 

“I like the sound of that.”

###

Moira rubbed her tired eyes as the last interview walked out of her office. 

So far none of the prospective candidates fit the job, most of the men seemed content to merely leer at her or her girls as they walked by. Moira would not hire a man who was more of a danger to her girls than those men on the streets.

She was startled from her fuming by a knock on her door. “Ma’am? There’s one more applicant.”

Moira sighed as she poured herself more tea. “Very well, send them in.” she told Ashley.

“Thank you.” a heavily accented voice that made Moira’s head jerk up said as the figure passed a blushing Ashley. The door closed and Moira took a good, long look at the mountain in front of her. She was pleased to see that the final applicant was a woman. And what a woman she was. She was slightly taller than Moira but unlike the spindly Irishwoman, the figure gracing her doorway was, to put it simply, fucking massive. She was as broad as the doorway and built like a tree trunk. The woman’s bulging muscles looked like they could stop a train with a single punch. She wore simple riding clothes, and her wild blonde hair was tied up underneath a large hat. 

“Pardon my appearance.” she said in heavily accented English, “But I heard that you were looking for a bouncer, my name is Aleksandra Zaryanova.”

Moira shook the woman’s beefy hand. “Miss Zaryanova, please sit.” she said gesturing to one of the chairs. The Russian nodded her thanks, wincing as the chair creaked under her weight.

“So, Miss Zaryanova, what experience do you have?”

“I have worked in several bars and houses before, I am not bragging when I saw my presence alone is enough to dissuade any trouble.”

Moira’s eyes raked up the large woman, eyebrows raised. “I believe you. But I need to know that the person I hire has this establishments best interests at heart, can you tell me what those are?” This was the real test. All the men before had either said the building itself or the ‘merchandise’. Moira suppressed a shudder; she would not hire someone who didn’t care for her girls as much as she did.

“The women of course.”

Moira’s eyebrow piqued. “And why is that?”

“Because it is my duty to protect them. So many men I have dealt with believe that because of their occupations these women deserve even less respect than they show to other women. Most other women believe that women in this work do not deserve protection.” the woman said seething. “I spit in their faces.”

Moira allowed herself a thin smile. “I feel the same way Miss Zaryanova. I would do anything for my girls.”

“As would I.”

Moira met the other woman’s gaze and saw only truth in her eyes. “Miss Zaryanova, I do believe I have a new bouncer.”

The woman smiled. “Thank you for the opportunity Miss.”

The pair shook hands and after discussing wages and board, Moira stood, ready to introduce her to the girls. 

“Lead the way Miss.”

Moira tutted. “You may call me Madame for business, other than that Moira will be fine.”

“Then you may call me Zarya.” the Russian said.

Moira nodded. “Very well Zarya, let’s go.”

###

“Girls.” Moira announced to the room. “I would like to introduce you to our bouncer, Miss Aleksandra Zaryanova.”

Zarya rounded the corner, suppressing a chuckle at the gasps as she filled the room. Introductions were made and Zarya made sure she had everyone’s name memorized before she spoke. “It is an honor to meet all of you, know that I will do my duty and keep you all safe; do not fear to report anything to me, no matter how small.”

Moira nodded in approval; she couldn’t believe her luck in finding this woman.

###

After sharing a late brunch with the girls, Moira took Zarya on a tour of the rest of the building, leaving the girls to gush over their new protector.

“Did you see her arms!” Kim swooned after Zarya had left with Madame.

“How could you miss them?” Hana squealed. “They were bigger than my head!”

“How are you all not talking about that voice?” Yuna groaned. “She’s just-”

“She’s like a knight!” Louisa said. “A knight in shining armor, defending us from dragons.” The girls chattered for a while longer until Madame came back with Zarya, the latter who now had a gun strapped to her thigh. Yuna, ever the keen eye, noticed a crease in her pants leg.

“Now, I’ll leave you to get to know the girls Miss Zaryanova, I need to prepare for my meeting with this Carver person.” Moira turned at Zarya’s nod and walked out of the parlor quickly as she could. Once out of sight she giggled at the bombardment of questions the girls were throwing at the overwhelmed bouncer.

###

A knock on the office door signaled Moira that Carver had arrived. “Enter.” she drawled.

Zarya opened the door. “Mister Jackson Carver Madame.” Zarya said as a salt-and-pepper haired man in an expensive suit walked in. 

“Madame O’Deorain.” the man said politely inclining his head.

“Mister Carver.” Moira nodded, “Please, take a seat. Would you like anything from our kitchen?” she asked.

Carver blinked. “N- no. thank you though.” he said, brows knit.

Moira nodded. “Thank you, Miss Zaryanova, that will be all.”

Zarya nodded and shut the door. Moira turned her attention to Carver, steepling her fingers. “Thank you for meeting me Mister Carver.” she said.

Carver smiled. “The pleasure is all mine; but first let me apologize for my associate’s despicable behavior last night.”

“It was unpleasant being awoken at such an hour.” Moira said pointedly.

Carver shook his head. “Believe me it was not my intent. It was the boys first job where he led; I suppose he got overexcited.” Moira rolled her eyes internally, that was certainly one way to put it. “But take my word for it, he has been dealt with.”

“Then I can expect no more midnight callers?”

“None.”

Moira nodded. “Excellent to hear.”

“However,” Carver said. “I would like to tell you what my associate was too- uncouth to bring to your attention.”

Moira raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would that be?”

Carver smiled and opened his arms wide. “Protection of course! Madame these are dangerous lands; ne’er do well’s around every corner. Surely you see the prudence in taking, protective measures.” he finished, the slightest edge to his voice.

“I thank you for your generosity; but I’ve talked with several of the other business owners; they all boasted about how safe the town is. Now tell me Mister Carver, if we live in such a safe town why would I need protection?”

Carver gave a thin smile. “Unfortunately, we can’t guarantee everyone’s safety. Now, if you were to give us say, a small retainer every month your protection would be guaranteed. And, well, it would be a shame if any accidents were to happen.” 

“You know I used to be a guide for a wagon train.” Carver’s eyes narrowed at the rapid change in subject. “It was a good job, paid well and food was provided. But it wasn’t without its peril.” Moira stood, making her way to a teapot. “Tea?” Carver shook his head. Moira poured herself a glass. “Do you know the most dangerous type of beast out in the desert?” 

“Wolves?” Carver guessed as Moira sat back down. 

“People.” Moira told him.

Carver smiled. “So, you do know the dangers of bandits.”

“No not bandits Mister Carver, the inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced?”

Moira took a sip of tea. “Yes, the green ones, the cowboys the-” she chuckled slightly. “if you’ll forgive the expression, the stupid ones. Do you know the most common injury on those trails, besides blisters and saddle-sores?”

“Heatstroke I suppose.”

Moira gave the smallest of half-smiles. “No, it was snakebites. The inexperienced people would crouch in a bush to relieve themselves as get a snakebite on the arse.”

“What is the point of this?” Carver asked, clearly confused. Moira took another sip of tea before leaning forward to stare Carver down.

“The point Mister Carver is to watch where you dump your shit, if you’re not too careful, you’ll get bit.”

“Are you threatening me Madame?” Carver asked, standing up.

Moira smiled. “Not at all. I’m merely offering advice, as a token of gratitude for making amends after last night.”

Carver arched an eyebrow. “So, you’ll take the protection?” 

Moira clicked her tongue. “I am new in town Mister Carver; my predecessor left the House in less than adequate condition; I’ve talked to the other business owners; regrettably I don’t think I can afford your services.” 

Carver sighed. “That is unfortunate…let me tell you something. Since you’re new in town and as you said your predecessor was less than competent as a gift, I’ll let you have one month free of charge. No interest, no adding the fee to the following months.”

“And if I decide I don’t want your protection?” Moira inquired.

Carver smiled. “We’ll talk about that in months’ time Madame, now, do we have a deal?” He reached across the desk, hand extended.

“I thank you for your generosity; believe me when I say I will consider the offer of protection very carefully.” Moira said as she shook his hand.

Carver smiled widely. “You seem like a savvy businesswoman Madame. I have no doubt you’ll make the right decision.”

He left the office, whistling a tune and graciously let Zarya escort him to the parlor. A few minutes later, Zarya returned and shut the door, just as Moira was finishing her tea.

“What happened out there?” Moira asked.

“He came in with two men, both stayed by the door and leered at the girls until I stood in the parlor. They tried to sneak glances upstairs after that but moved to the bar once I told them the upstairs was prohibited. They sulked there the rest of the meeting.”

Moira nodded as she rolled her neck. “They didn’t harass any of the girls?” Zarya shook her head. “Good.”

“What about Mister Carver?” Zarya asked.

Moira related what he had told her, including his veiled threat and the month free of protection.

“So, we have a month.” Zarya mused.

“I talked to the saloon owner, he said that Carver hikes fees when he feels like it and anyone who doesn’t pay is either beaten, run out of town or killed.”

Zarya leaned forward. “What do we do?”

“I want you to start stockpiling ammunition in the basement and the bars backroom, but not so much that anyone will notice. Then we’ll tell the girls to be extra cautious when outside; if possible, you or I will accompany them from now on.”

Zarya nodded. “Do you think we’ll need all those bullets you’re wanting?”

Moira grit her teeth. “I know Mister Carver’s type. If anything, we’ll be needing even more bullets before this is over.”

###

“Come on Hana just one more stop!”

“But the blacksmith is boring!” Hana complained. The pair had already been out most of the afternoon, filling orders for the house. 

“He’s not that bad.” Yuna said, and it was true. The smithy was nice and cordial and never judged the girls for their work. The problem was that once he started talking, he’d never stop. People were there for hours as he told stories about his home and his run ins with dragons and other such beasts. To the couples surprise, a tall figure came from the back of the shop, long coveralls and a thick, iron mask covering their face.

“Hey what happened to Mister Lindholm?”

The mask lifted to reveal a bright-eyed, freckled young woman. “Sorry.” she said sheepishly. “My Da’ had to go visit his sister and her family so I’m takin’ over the shop.” she said proudly.

“And you are?” Yuna asked, running her eyes over the woman’s muscular, sweaty arms. 

The woman’s eyes flew open. “Oh! I’m sorry! My name’s Brigette, Brigette Lindholm.” 

“You said your father’s away?” Hana asked, suddenly glad that Yuna had dragged her along. 

Brigette nodded. “But don’t worry, he taught me all I know!”

“Well.” Yuna drawled. “We did have a cart we brought him to be fixed.”

The taller woman’s eyes brightened. “The one that needed the new brake! It’s almost ready, I should have it done this evening.”

Hana smiled and leaned over the counter. “Can you bring it to Madame O’Deorain’s when it’s finished?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. 

“It would be a great help.” Yuna said, leaning over the counter.

Brigette’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as her eyes flicked from Hana’s flirtatious smile to Yuna’s cleavage.

“Brigette Lindholm at your service I’ll get it done!” she said in one breathless jumble of words.

“Wonderful.” Hana said, reaching a hand up to the blacksmiths chin. “Don’t keep us waiting.”

Brigette’s face got impossibly redder and the pair turned, leaving a sputtering, panting Brigette behind them.

“Okay.” Hana admitted as she saw Yuna’s knowing smirk. “I’m glad I came to the blacksmith’s.”

###

Fuming, Jackson Carver tore into his office. That damn woman was smart, smarter than he was expecting. None of the other townspeople had ever talked to him the way she did. He turned to his most trusted man. “Find out everything you can about Moira O’Deorain.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really so so sorry for the long long long wait.  
> This one will probably be longer than Amelié's story, but I know where I want it to go.


End file.
